Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Direct-Inverse constructions in Towwu pũ saho

Towwu pũ saho has a fairly interesting syntactical system. It acts much like a direct inverse language, though the information is carried in a particle between the nouns, rather than on the verb.

To understand how this works, you first need to understand its word order. Tps is an SOV language, but there is little necessary relation between subject and agent. Rather, the subject position is ordinarily held by the topic (when the topic is the agent or patient), which in turn is generally the most definite (technically the difference is referring vs non-referring expressions but it's been a while since I've worked on this so I need to brush up on the difference again) or proximate argument. Then there's an animacy hierarchy which determines word order absent an unusual topic or differences in definiteness. The most animate argument comes first followed by less animate arguments. The hierarchy is as follows:


                                         Animacy table from most to least animate
1st person
2nd person
3rd person
4th person
Human
Animal/
Moving Force
Inanimate
(natural objects)
Inanimate
(Artificial)
Abstract


After the word order is properly established, one of eight particles is chosen. This clarifies the semantic roles and the definiteness (since there are no articles) of the main arguments. A direct particle is used when the more animate (regardless of position in the sentence) argument is the agent and the inverse when the less animate argument is the agent. When the arguments have the same animacy, if the subject position is held by the agent, use the direct and use the inverse when the patient holds that position. The table below shows the role particles.

Grammatical relations in transitive sentences
“Voice”
Direct
Inverse
Agent
Referential
Non-referring
Referential
Non-referring
Patient
Referring
go
i
lu
Non-referring
e
bo
sa
nẽ

This is probably best shown with a series of examples. The following words are ebe "man", ho'o "hat", caupe "to put on, to wear", tẽmẽ "to see", ũcẽ "woman", uxxale "snake".

Ebe go ho'o caupe "The man puts on the hat". Here both arguments are definite, so the most animate goes first and a direct marker is used.

Ebe e ho'o caupe "The man puts on a hat". Still very straightforward

Ho'o mã ebe caupe "A man puts on the hat". Since the less animate argument is definite while the more animate argument is not, the less animate argument is moved to the beginning of the sentence. It still uses a direct marker though because the agent is the more animate argument. A more natural translation might be "The hat was put on by a man". If you want to make "a man" the topic (for some reason) you could say Rĩ ebe mã ho'o caupe or just Ebe mã ho'o caupe.

Ebe bo ho'o caupe "A man wears a hat". Not a very illuminating sentence, but it works. Since they have the same definiteness regular animacy rules apply.

Now for the inverses.

Ebe i uxxale tẽmẽ "The snake sees the man". Same definiteness, so the more animate argument comes first. But the agent is the less animate argument, so we use the inverse.

Ebe lu uxxale tẽmẽ "A snake sees the man". A very strange sentence that would be more likely translated "The man is seen by the snake". However, this does fall the normal rules for animacy

Uxxale sa ebe tẽmẽ "The snake sees a man". Note that while the agent is in the subject spot, you still use the inverse.

Ebe nẽ uxxale tẽmẽ "A snake sees a man". Pretty straightforward.

When the arguments are on the same level:

Ebe go ũcẽ tẽmẽ "The man sees the woman"

Ũcẽ go ebe tẽmẽ "The woman sees the man"

Ebe i ũcẽ tẽmẽ "The man is seen by the woman" or "The man, the woman sees him"

Ũcẽ i ebe tẽmẽ "The woman is seen by the man" or "The woman, the man sees her"

These are all kind of weird examples, many seeming quite unnatural. So now I'll give one example for each (not necessarily related to each other) with TAM markers and other particles to make the sentences work better.

Hã go ba ngĩ tẽmẽ "I just saw him"

Igea mã uxxale ku ngõnã "A snake ate the egg"

Ba e igea ijji ĩxũ "She might like eggs"

Uxxale bo igea ngĩ ngõnã "Snakes like eggs"

Hã i onã fu fũxã tẽmẽ? "Have you ever seen me before?"

Sei ebe lu uxxale ãxõũ ngõnã ella "(As you know, I wish) a snake would eat that man over there" This sentence has a lot going on. Sei is a distal, visible determiner. Ãxõũ marks the sentence as a desire of the speaker (even though the speaker is never mentioned in the sentence). Ella at the end of a sentence marks the entire sentence as something that should be obvious to the discourse participants.

Hau, uxxale sa be'oi uwẽ vasi ngõnã "Agreed, the snake could be a man-killer" lit. "Agreed, the snake could frequently eat people"

Ebe nẽ uxxale ijji ã ngõnã "A snake could be eating a man"



Wednesday, October 10, 2018

I did good things today

A lot of the time, I feel like I don't do much good. That I just kind of move through the motions, doing things because there are things. Not making an impact. Just moving, another tooth in a cog in the machine of life. Around and around and around.

I helped with a booth today, spent about 2 and half hours telling people why they should consider a minor in international development (and then later helping at the IR booth). And you know, I enjoyed it. I like the idea of helping people figure out how they can use their own individual interests and apply it to a more global setting. I think I might have actually helped someone make a decision that could have huge impacts on their life and other peoples'.

One in particular stands out. Some guy, he was unsure if he wanted to International Relations or something else. He was asking about international development and revealed that he was also interested in genetics and working in agribusiness, but also development. I was able to direct him to the exact right person (a professor here who does agricultural development), show him some relevant classes and I think give him a firmer idea of how to use his university education to his advantage. It felt good.

I did good. I like helping people. Sometimes I have to remind myself that, but ultimately it is true. Doing good feels good.

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Antipassives, Ergative Verbs and Nominalizations in Kélojùù

I have not worked on this language for a long time. And then a little while ago someone was asking about someone else's conlang, specifically if the agent nominialization could fit on unaccusative verbs (something like that). And that got me thinking. Then a few days later I was looking up stuff on antipassives and learned that while they normally aren't in nom-acc languages, it does happen in some Nilo-Saharan langs. So I thought about how to shove it in mine.

Some base things to keep in mind. First of all, most transitive verbs in Klj are ambitransitive, but they are ergative verbs, even though in English they are often accusative verbs. Why? Such is life. Anyway, this means that the subject of an intransitive verb (well, detransitivized) is treated as the patient rather than the agent. So while in English we can do "He cooks food" -> "He cooks" the same process (simple deletion of the object) in Klj means "He is cooked/He cooks (like a cake does)". The next thing to consider is that Klj has two basic denominalization processes. One is the action noun (much like a gerund or infinitive in English) and the other is concrete noun. The concrete noun can work like an agentive/patientive/result, basically some sort of more concrete object or idea.  The interpretation of these is based on the role of the subject of the original verb, which is important because generally only intransitive verbs can take these in Klj. And so comes the need for the antipassive

The antipassive (-nú) demotes the object of a transitive verb, while keeping the old agent in subject position. Consider the verb wííza "to break (something)". You might have a sentence like mọ́llééṃò zawíízajù "I broke the pot". To say "The pot broke" you could say  mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízajù or use the passive/reflexive/general detransivizer -ḍà giving us mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízadàjù "The pot broke/was broken". "I broke (things)" is zawíízánújù and "someone who breaks things" is wíízánúsaw but "a broken thing" is just wíízasaw with no passive required.
Other than nominalizations, when is the intransitive important? For one, the intransitive form of ambitransitive verbs in the present tense often has a habitual meaning. So (to use a slightly silly example), zawííza means "I break (apart) a lot". The antipassive allows us to keep the subject as an agent in these habitual clauses, zawíízánú "I be breaking (things)". Habitual intransitives can take a genitive complement to reintroduce the former direct object as in mọ̀òlleek zawíízánú "I be breaking pots" (had the singular been used there, it would mean "I keep breaking this same pot")
So what's even the point of having a passive (as seen above) if all the verbs are ergative? Well, a large part of it is to clarify that that action was intentionally done/caused by the agent. In the ergative (technically unergative?) form, no intention is drawn to the fact that it was caused or done. This implies either an accident or something causeless. Pots can just randomly break, yannow? A passive with a reintroduced agent complement (with the dative postposition) means that agent intentionally did the verb. Even one without a reintroduced agent could be taken as a volative act, though because it could also be reflexive or something else, usually an indefinite pronoun is brought in regardless. The next question is, "if the act was volative and the agent known, why use the passive and not the active voice?" Further research is needed, the likely answer has something to do with bringing attention to the patient/result of the action. So the difference between mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízajù, mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízadàjù, and mọ̀llééṃò zlàkọ ìwíízadàjù is something like "The pot (has) broke(n)/Somebody (accidentally) broke the pot" "The pot was broken (by someone)" and "The pot was broken by me!" respectively/

The antipassive works in the opposite (ish) way. An antipassive with a reintroduced patient (also in the dative) implies that the agent did the verb on accident. So while mọ́llééṃò zawíízajù means "I have broken the pot", mọ́llééṃò kọ zawíízánújù means "I accidentally broke the pot".

Pragmatically, this means that people, when accused of doing something, often reply with an antipassive. Mọ́llééṃò ìwíízajù! "You broke the pot!"(Note that this is technically ambiguous and could mean "The pot broke!") nẹẹh, zawíízánújù "It was an accident!" (lit. "no, I broke (something)"). This is a way of admitting fault while trying to absolve yourself of full guilt.

Obviously, there's still a lot to work out here/discover. But it is a work in progress and more progress I've gotten on this language than I have all year. Plus, it was like actual work combing morphology, syntax, and pragmatics, which feels good.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

Language Profile: Kélojùù

Name: Kélojùù
Alternative Names: The Language of Kelo, Nilo-Saharan lang :p
Family: "Southern Family", highly diverse and spoken to the southeast of Ākoṇṭemāṟuttōm
Location: In the highlands of the southern continent, quite far from Kikxotian influence
History: The kélomèlo have been in their valley for as long as people can remember and are considered the indigenous inhabitants. I really don't have much else about them. They like to farm
Writing System: Not a written language, they use Amt for writing purposes
Typological information:
  • Word order: SOV
  • Alignment: Nominative-Accusative
  • Morphological: Somewhere between agglutinating and fusional
Notable Features:
  • Tones!
  • Lots of non-concatenative stuff
  • Hearty derivational morphology
  • Construct State
  • Productive semantic gender alternations
  • Singulative system
  • Some stuff with ergative verbs and antipassives
Some morphological markings:
  • Verbs
    • Subject
    • Tense/Aspect
    • "Extensions"
      • Mood
      • Polarity
      • "Voices"
        • Passive
        • Reflexsive
        • Causative
        • Antipassive
        • Reciprocal
  • Nouns
    • Case
      • Nominative
      • Oblique
      • Genitive
    • Number
      •  Singular/singulative
      • Plural/pluralitive/collective
    • State 
      • Absolute
      • Construct
    • Gender
      • Male
      • Female

Origins: July 2017.
History: I wanted to do another 2 hour challenge, so I looked at the old "african" languages one and chose to do Nilo-Saharan. Of course, that's not really a valid grouping (probably) and it gives a whole lot to work with, but here we are! Here's the original post
Status: In-development. I haven't touched it in a while, but I've gotten back to it after learning more about antipassives. Definitely planning some cool things with those and agentive nouns
What I'm doing with it and why: I'm doing a lots of things with like tones and
Other Notes:

4/26/18- Probably enough for now. One day I'll get a CALS page and other stuff on it (as I always say and then never do)

Friday, April 20, 2018

Scoped Derivation in Knǝnʔtəəʔ

Someone on reddit asked about having multiple infixes in a single word. I answered and then included some stuff on Knǝnʔtəəʔ, as copied below.

I have a conlang that works similarly. It has many infixes and they work sort of on a scope basis. Basically derivational affixes applied in order where each newly added one changes meaning based on the last one, and then if a verb, the aspectual inflection is added last. For example, take the root klbaa "to be clean". The prefix s- marks a causitive so sklbaa "to clean something". The infix <w> marks a location of a verb. kwlbaa "a clean place, a medicine man's house", skwlbaa "To turn into a clean place, to sanctify" swklbaa "a place of cleaning, a river bank". Now we have the prefix+infix combination m-ä- to derive agent nouns giving us mkälbaa "elder, a person who is clean". But there is also msäklbaa "launderer" and msäkwlbaa "one who sanctifies". So on and so forth. Point is that all the different things stack on top of each other, and that is how the order is determined.

Adding in the aspectual infixes (in this case the cessative as marked by infixation of the final vowel and consonant), we get things like kaalbaa "to stop being clean" vs saaklbaa "to stop cleaning" vs saakwlbaa "to stop sanctifying". With reflexive derivation based on some reduplication and infixation we get məmkälbaa "to be an elder", kǝkwlbaa "to be a clean place" səswklbaa "to be a river bank used for washing". Honestly, this root is a bad example since it doesn't have a final consonant. Anyway, with aspects we end up getting maamkälbaa "to stop being an elder", kaakwlbaa "to stop being a clean place", and saaswklbaa "to stop being a place for washing". Lots of stacked infixes, all based on how changes of the order matter.
Let's discuss this a little more. Knǝnʔtəəʔ is super fun since it straddles that fine line between Mandarin and Inuktitut, by which I mean it has minimal inflectional morphology but quite rich derivational morphology. This post really only went into a couple things. For example, you can have srkwlbaa "incense, an instrument used to sanctify something". Or swrkwlbaa "an incense holder, a pantry". Now the thing is, a lot of these would never be used outside of word games like this; instead compounds or other constructions would be used. But it is technically limitless, even if srswrkwlbaa "a tool used to make pantries" is pretty absurd (let alone swrswrkwlbaa "a place that holds the tools used to make pantries").

You might notice that the words are quite contextual. For example, you probably wouldn't guess that "one who is clean" means "elder". This points to the fact that while these derivations are productive, people seem to learn many of them as distinct lexical units than as derivations in and of themselves. Another example would be hwyrëëy "a paved (well stone paved) road, a place of catching frogs". Once again, the main meaning isn't obvious from the initial construction. It actually comes from the fact that roads (as built by the Kikxotians as they colonized the place) would often cut through areas that had lots of frogs. Since the roads were flat and not grassy/swampy, it became easier to catch frogs on the road than off. Of course, hwyrëëy can also mean "ambush point", since in anti-colonial conflicts, people would often attack convoys on the road. If asked why someone was hanging around a road, the excuse would be "catching frogs" to the point where hyrëëy came to mean "to ambush someone" and mhäyrëëy "rebel". And this of course led to the slur hrëëy "frog" for "Kikxotian soldier". All good clean fun.

And now for some sentences since those are fun. I'll supply the translations in another post!

Sɨ̈ mthäwäk thɛ̃ɛ̃n pcããʔ nɔk hwyrëëy löw cəclör thɛ̃ɛ̃n?
TOP AGENT<AGENT>-be.irritating 3P ride.wagon on <LOC><CAPT>frog 2S PLUR~see 3P?


Jɛt klbaa srjob kbə mã or Sɨ̈ srjob kbə mã jɛt so klbaa
NEG clean <INST>drink GEN 1S or TOP <INST>drink GEN 1S NEG 3S clean

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

More dialects and some phrases

Just some things that I have been thinking about the last few days, regarding TjKt mostly. First is that there is a dialect common along the coastal regions best known for the sound change [+syllabic, +short]->Ø/C_$, that is short vowels deleting in open syllables (of roots, ie etymologically). This preserves words like jāmah "faith" but not jimha "to believe in something" which instead would become jem(h) (I threw in a /ɪ/->[ɛ] as well :p). Of course, this leads to problems with words like jmohi "faithful", so I'll need to put in some more rules so that not only consonants are left. Maybe only word final deletion in that case, which would then result in a closed syllable. Another alternative would be lengthening word final short vowels if the previous vowel is also short. In this cases the options would end up being jnoh or jn(h)ī respectively. I'm kind of preferring the second option right now, it leads to some interesting stuff. I also need to figure out how to avoid clusters of intital CCC coming from CCVC roots, which leads to option 3, metathesis to CVCC. Then we'd have jom(h) as the word coming out. Yeah, not sure what to do yet. I think option 3 works the best overall. Hmm, maybe some sort of chain thing. Changes start from the right side of the word, which can change a open to a closed syllable and save the word. This can end up looking with case 1. When the final vowel is already long and the form is (V)CCVCV: then metathesis occurs to CVCCV: (option three). So the word jmohi turns to jnoh but jmuhā "thing which causes belief" becomes jmahā->jam(h)ā (/u/->[ə] in analogy with the short i sound change). Ujmahū "faithfully" becomes jamhū  because the metathesis eliminates the closedness of the first syllable.

Going down the whole 4th class (ignore the colors, html is hard), I think we get the following forms (bolded if different from standard): 
CāCaC CCoC ūCeCC CeCC CōCāC aCCōC CCīC CaCCū CūCaC CaCCā īCCōC CaCCū

3rd:

CōCoC īCCaC CaCCī CāCC ūCCāC CīCūC āCCāC CaCC CīCoC āCīCC CCūCō CCīoC

2nd:

āCuCC CīCeC CaCC aCCōC ūCCoC CCaC oCCīC CCīC aCCīCā CaCC CōCaC CaCCī CīCoC

1st:

CīCC CūCC eCCūC CCīC CCōC CāCaC CeCC ūCeCC CeCCī CCaC CīCaC

Somehow there are no duplicates within a class. Praise Kīkx!

I might throw in some mergers as well, like the alveolar affricates merging with the palatal-alveolar ones. I do think this one will preserve the pharyngeals, and I think the ejectives might weaken to pharyngealized consonants, with a loss of the non-stop ejectives. It also doesn't spirantize intervocalic stops, but does contrast consonant length intervocalically.

So let's compare some sentences now (though I haven't worked on semantic/grammatical/pragmatic stuff, so it's basically only applying sound changes at this point).

"People pray to Kikxo so that they are blessed"
Úīkmo nonsīnī Kīkxo mābíi gagaxātap-gātāp[wi:kŋɔ nɔnsi:ni: xi:kʃɔ ma:bjɪ ɣəɣəʃa:θəpga:θa:p]
Úīk nonsīnī Kīkx mābī gagaxātap-gātāp[wik nɔnsi:n:i ki:kʃ ma:bi: gəg̵əʃa:təpga:ta:p]

Pretty similar with that one

"The fishermen are eating dog in the lake"
Shbīmuzō fatiúja rōxub qal gfutī[sʼbi:mʊtʃo: ħəθɪwdzə ro:ʃʊb qʼəl għʊθi:]
Spīnzō fateúj rōxab qal gafthī[spi:ntʃo: ħətewdʒ ro:ʃəb ɢǝl gəħtˤi:]

That one is pretty similar too. Let's try two more.

"I have seen stars in the desert and heard wind on the island"
Yān khopihma kōkob qal thuyī ūmpa khoniyka citham qal úlunī[ha:n kʼɔfɪʔmə xo:xɔb qʼəl tʼʊhi: ju:mpə kʼɔni:kə tsɪtʼəm qʼəl u:lʊni:]
Yān khpehm kōkob qal tahyī ūmp khnek ztham qal úalnī[ha:n qpɛʔm̩ ko:kɔb ɢəl təʔhi: ju:mp qnɛxk tʃˤtˤəm ɢəl wəlni:]

"Sentient beings talk and eat"
Tiújī ūtiúj ūmpa tiúja[tɪwdzi: ju:θɪwdz u:mpə θɪwdzə]

Teújī ūteúj ūmp teúj[tɛwdʒi: ju:tɛwdʒ u:mp tɛwdʒ]


Outside of dialects, I've been thinking about sayings and such. Euphemism and the like as well. One root I was thinking about is NSP "to travel (in a group)". Some important words from this root are nōsup "caravan" and ansōp "to travel (in a group); to go from one point to another for trade". Now the transitive stem onsīp isn't really used formally, at least without an applicative. Well, it makes sense that this could be used as a causative "to make a group of people travel". While this could mean like "to send off a caravan" but more normally/colloquially it means "to exile a group" or even "to ethnically cleanse/force a migration".  It doesn't have to necessarily be malevolent. For example a gafto "flood" could force people to evacuate, such as in the sentence lbupī onaxsīp gafto "The people evacuated the village because of the flood" (lit. "As for the village, a flood forced it away")

Another interesting use of NSP is nōsup-nōsōp "to give a caravan to someone" (since these types of verbs always have recipients for direct objects). This, when taken literally, is a little strange. However, in actual use it means "to invest in someone's business venture (usually by supplying capital)" since rich merchants would earn money by giving up-and-coming merchants the right to use their goods and caravan in exchange for a cut of the profits. This later extended to a general meaning of "to invest (in someone)". It then later also gained the meaning of "to give an inheritance to someone" since those same goods later became the basis of many a merchant's son's inheritance.

This construction in general is known for having a large number of idiomatic meanings. A classic is sīqro-sīqri "to give give a butt to someone". This has come to mean "to kiss up to someone, to show deference to someone" since within Kikxotian culture, to bend over like this would be a sign of making yourself vulnerable to someone (specifically for their gain...they aren't a very progressive culture).  pōjop-pōjōp "to give death" is another example, here meaning "to execute" as opposed to the more generic pījūp "to kill". There's āruyt-ārāyt "to give a tongue" or rather "to claim a bounty (from someone), stemming from the tradition of cutting off the tongue of a person or animal to show that you killed them.

Ācutr-ācātr "to give a choice" is a very interesting one. At face value, this is a good thing. However in actual use this means "to threaten". Kikxotians value choices and agency. Therefore, in sentencing and other such arrangements, the criminal would often be given a choice in their punishment. In many private arrangements, "choices" are given as well even if everyone knows that only a certain option will be decided. Plenty of corrupt individuals and criminals would preface (such as in a tax shakedown or protection scheme) their demands with "I'm giving you a choice" until this became a euphemism for "to threaten". For some people, some back euphemism stuff has even happened where the original ācutr "choice" has come to mean "threat".

A few others ones. Wsuzī-wsūzū "to give a marsh" is to give someone something that is utterly worthless in order to mock them. It's like a white elephant gift but without the prestige. Tōwow-tōwōw "to give ice" is to do something to someone that has only temporary benefits before fading away. For example, a really terrible doctor might be accused of "only giving people ice" instead of actually healing them. Nōvos-nōvōs "to give a plow" is to endebt or enslave someone. 

Point is, this is a very productive but also highly context based construction. Many of these simply have to be learned, especially in the dialects where the first part is dropped. Like in any language, the meanings can't simply be learned as a derivation of common root, but instead as component of the culture. How else would we know that rōxub-rōxōb is "to invite someone on a day outing" or wxurā-wxūrū is "to be a quisling". Let alone that naxōíox-nōíōx is "to take someone in for the night" (this one is almost exclusively used in the passive, the active has a meaning like "to give thanks to a host".  Neither would be guessable from the root which means "grass").

Just a lot of musings

Monday, February 12, 2018

TbKt conjunctions

So I was reading about syntax and figured I could do a mini post on TbKt conjunctions. We'll look at about 4 or 5 today (all particles...except they can inflect so whatever).

The first is ī. This is "and" and links together multiple nouns within a phrase to a single subject/head. The key thing to remember here is that it works on a phrasal level instead of a clausal one and keeps both the noun and the verb the same. For example, the sentence Yān oxdīc rōxub ī zhōluq "I hit the dog and the cat". This also implies some sort of unity of coherence in the verb. Ī can link nouns separated by relative clauses. For example, Yān oxdīc rōxub vit anmōs-anmōs ī zhōluq "I hit the dog, which ran away, and the cat".

The second is jasā "and/or". It isn't commonly used and more or less replaces ī. Yān oxdīc rōxub jasā zhōluq "I hit the dog and/or the cat"

Then there is ocāk "and". Unlike ī, ocāk operates on a clausal level. More specifically, it links two (otherwise unrelated) clauses together, and draws attention to the fact that the subject changed. Indeed, in common usage it almost acts as a DS switch reference marker. This is very useful when the object cannot be promoted to subject position (perhaps because of indefiniteness) yet there is some sort of continuity between the clauses. Use of ocāk followed by a verb but no arguments indicates that the subject has changed, probably to the former object (though arguments can of course be added, especially for clarity of emphasis). For example Yān oxdīc rōxub ocāk anmōs-anmōs  "I hit a dog and the dog ran (away)". If the dog had already been previously referenced, then Rōxub oxaxdic yān ūmpa anmōs-anmōs "I hit the dog and it ran away" would be more appropriate.

Which brings us to ūmpa "and". This also works on a clausal level, but specifically marks the subject as staying the same between the clauses, like a SS SR marker. Sometimes it translates to something very similar to ī (despite working on different levels) but implies disunity of the verb, or some sort of sequence. This is especially true when the new "clause" is only an arugment, meaning that the subject and verb have been carried over. For example Yān oxdīc rōxub ūmpa zhōluq is literally "I hit (the) dog and (the) cat" but would be understood as "I hit the dog and then the cat" or "I hit the dog and (I hit) the cat (but with something to make the acts of hitting be considered separate)".

Agis means "but" and works as a replacement for ocāk. It simply marks surprise or unexpectedness of the next clause and can be emphasized with the suffix -(a)x. This suffix can also be added to the other conjunctions, with the same sort of meaning. Some examples. Rōxub oxaxdīc ūmpax mōnak anmōs-anmōs "I hit the dog but it didn't run away". Yān oxdīc rōxub īx zhōluq "I hit a dog AND a cat".

Anyway, that's an intro to conjunctions in TbKt. To think that I was accidentally doing pivot and pseudo-switch reference long before I ever knew them.